


Out of Line

by Mesita



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Boarding School AU, Character Development, Epilepsy, F/F, F/M, Femslash, Teen Wolf Rare Pair Fest, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:54:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mesita/pseuds/Mesita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erica opts to transfer to the prestigious Brookefield Academy for Women during her Junior year of High School where she meets the over-achieving Lydia Martin and down-to-earth new girl Allison Argent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Erica Reyes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Teen Wolf Rare Pair Fest on LiveJournal.
> 
> NOTE: Erica is meant to start off like her pre-wolf self. No makeup, blotchy skin, and unsure of herself. This story is a coming-of-age tale to show that there are more ways to transform a person than miraculous lycanthropy.

“Brookefield Academy for Young Women?” Erica Reyes frowned heavily at the brochure her father placed on the table. “Sounds fancy.” She turned back to her bowl of cereal with a loud crunch.

“Erica, please,” her father pleaded. Erica slowly closed her eyes and counted the amount of times it took to masticate her Cheerios into complete mush.

“I didn’t say I hated it,” Erica sighed heavily. She swirled her Cheerios around in her bowl, watching as they resurfaced after she tried to drown them with her spoon. “I just said it was fancy.”

Her father visibly relaxed and that put Erica at ease a little. He had been trying for months to find the perfect alternative school for her. It wasn’t like she was a bad student, it was more like the other students liked to project their annoying adolescent fears all over her. Erica would never admit to being bullied. She wanted to claim that she instigated all of her fights for her pride’s sake, but she knew that wasn’t the case. Her father must have known it, too, or he wouldn’t be trying so hard to find Erica a ‘better’ school as opposed to an ‘alternative’ school.

“I’ll talk to the Headmaster during lunch. We’ll start getting your transfer papers ready immediately. How does that sound?” her father inquired.

“Yeah, okay,” Erica shrugged. She barely registered the brochure on the table after that. All she knew was that it was an all-girls Boarding School which was fine by her. After her father pulled her from public school after her first few weeks of Junior Year, she thought she was going to go back to homeschooling. At least this way she could feel trapped somewhere other than her own home.

For as long as Erica could remember, she suffered from intense seizures. She stopped counting the amount of times she’d been hospitalized by the time she was twelve. She knew most of the nursing staff at the Beacon Hills Medical Center almost by heart and had probably tried enough medication to cover every letter of the alphabet.

Seizures and public school didn’t really mix--especially considering the amount of school she missed due to hospitalization. She had no friends at school at all. Anyone she actually considered a peer happened to be other long-term hospital patients. Many of the kids in the Children’s Cancer Pediatric Ward were pretty interesting. At least if she had a bad day, chances were, they were too. It wasn’t a similarity she was particularly fond of, but it got everyone through for another day.

In many ways the cancer patients were the only people with whom she could connect. She felt like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any minute. The only thing she had going for her that the other patients didn’t was that she could regenerate after an episode—only to detonate all over again. Her friends in the oncology ward weren’t so lucky. Once they detonated, that was it. But really, who was the lucky one?

Sometimes Erica wished every seizure would be her last—in one way or another. She wanted to be cured, sure, but if there wasn’t a cure, then she would take the other way out.

Erica’s problems didn’t start or end with her epilepsy. Her problems began when she tried to take her illness into her own hands. The rest of the world didn’t agree with her gut reaction and she soon found herself in another section of the hospital—one she hadn’t yet experienced: the psyche ward. Here, the patients weren’t as talkative. Each patient had a trail mix of medications listed on their clipboards and none of them seemed to work--especially if they were all still in the hospital. Their pills weren’t pain killers for the body, but for the brain. Everything the doctors forced her to take placed her in a dizzy, mouth-numbing soup of horror.

The doctors told her she was depressed but she didn’t believe them. She wasn’t depressed; she was tired. She’d had bags under her eyes nearly her entire life and no amount of makeup could cover them up—not that she’d tried. Every glance in the mirror told her she was just waiting for death to take her and the day she tried to go out and meet it, the world got in her way.

Her parents had taken away the only decision she’d ever made for herself. Life was a gift, they’d said. Was epilepsy her special bonus gift, then? She had to live with it every day. She was the one who had to avoid stressful situations and certain people that might trigger an episode. Even some movies and television shows were to be avoided and that was not her definition of living.

School hadn’t been much better. She’d tried the whole public school route. Elementary school was awful and she’d missed most of middle school. After a phone call from her principal in seventh grade, her parents home-schooled her as much as possible until high school. When she was 15, her parents decided that, hey, maybe she should get some socialization in her. Maybe it would cheer her up. Maybe she could smile again. Erica didn’t even remember smiling in the first place. Why would her parents say ‘again?’

“The world is maturing,” her mother would tell her and kiss her forehead. “You’ll see. No more bullies. No more fighting.”

But high school wasn’t any better. In fact, it was worse. She suddenly found herself in a setting where she had to worry not only about studies, but the world’s obsession with teenage love and having a social life were clearly more important. Girls fawned over their expressions in the bathroom mirror and when it was discovered that Erica wasn’t the type to monitor her looks, she was ridiculed and mocked. Every class had her fighting to keep herself under control. If she did lose control, and her medication wasn’t brought to her in time, the students hardly lifted a finger to help her as her body convulsed out of control.

Her mother was right in some respects. Her classmates no longer pretended to seize in front of her. But that didn’t stop them from making her life miserable.

She fought with her parents for a year to get her out and to home school her again. They didn’t listen. “Try harder,” they had said, “You’re not even trying.”

So she mixed her medications with a little treat from her father’s liquor cabinet. It was an act of defiance and exhaustion. It was a wakeup call, but not for her.

When she was released from the psyche ward, it wasn’t her that her parents listened to, but her appointed psychiatrist. According to her sessions, the public school setting was not ideal. The children were not trained to handle a unique case like Erica’s. If she was going to be socialized, she could attend events for homeschooled children.

Socialized. It was like she was a feral monster kept in a cage and she needed to mingle with others of her species just to get by. Erica hated the taste of the word. Socialize. It tasted of rotting meat and stale shoelaces.

“There has to be another alternative,” her mother had pleaded. In her opinion, too much homeschooling was damaging. In Erica’s opinion, it wasn’t enough.

In the end, the psychiatrist suggested a private school. With a town as small as Beacon Hills, the only private school meant a Catholic school that taught grades K-12. She would have to enter the school as a Junior and share a cafeteria with six year olds. Erica wasn’t buying it.

So her parents went on a hunt for the perfect school for their less-than perfect daughter. She’d been introduced to a number of schools across the Northern California area, but nothing sat right with her. Her parents grew tired of searching. Erica grew tired of waiting. In the end, she decided that whatever brochure her father placed in front of her would be the one she would take.

Brookefield couldn’t be that bad, right?

It was not only a boarding school, but it also happened to be two hours away and very expensive. It was the perfect way to get back at her parents for forcing her into public school for so long without actually hurting them—just their wallets. She also didn’t have to be around for them to make her feel guilty for the expense.

No one would know her. She could re-invent herself. These kinds of places were strict, right? Maybe they would be better trained to help her if anything happened. Maybe they would respect her enough that she wouldn’t be triggered into any more seizures.

 

Or maybe it was going to be absolutely terrible. She had no idea. But anything was better than now.

“I think this place will be good for you,” her father said, placing a calm hand on her shoulder.

Erica didn’t say anything. She just finished her cereal in silence. She wanted to tell her father that she had the same hopes he did, but if she voiced them out loud, then they would hurt a lot more when they didn’t come true.


	2. Brookefield Academy

“We’re here, pumpkin,” said Mr. Reyes as he pulled up to the visitor’s parking spots. If it hadn’t been for the break in songs on her mp3 player, Erica wouldn’t have heard him at all. She pulled one ear bud out to hear him better and looked up at her new temporary home.

The Brookefield Academy for Young Women was not at all what Erica expected. When she thought of the term Boarding School, she thought of an old English countryside with a massive brick estate that used to be an old convent and may or may not have been used as a hospital during World War II. She hadn’t expected it to look so… modern.  
California had been around forever, but Western civilization had hardly even touched the land for 200 years and even then it took another 50 years and a gold rush for anything to really happen to the state. No, the Brookefield Academy had a boring history that not even the shiny brochures could spruce up. The Academy had been built in the seventies by a prestigious Mr. Brookefield who apparently thought the current education system wasn’t good enough for his daughter and felt the need to create an entire school to sate him.

The building was still built with brick--or at least it was in some parts. Other wings had been added to the Academy over the years and the architects hadn’t bothered to match the original design. One half of the school had the regal look of a snobbish bureaucrat and the other half looked like it came straight from a nineties High School movie.

Whoever they had hired to do the landscaping was superb, though. Even Erica noticed the perfection in the shrubbery trimming. It was hard not to notice the hedge swans and hedge lions littering the center of the circle drive near the entrance.

Despite its obvious visual flaws, Erica actually liked the place. She wouldn’t admit it to her parents, though. She tried to contain her excitement to that of general nonchalance as her father guided the two of them through the walkways of the grounds.

Just before they reached the massive front doors on the newer side of the school, Erica caught a glimpse of an older woman trimming the hedges with great care. She must have felt Erica staring at her, though, because she turned her head and for a brief moment, Erica could see her face under her wide-brimmed hat. She was smiling, but only just. The skin around her mouth and cheek and left eye was smooth and shiny and warped as though she’d suffered terrible burns. Erica looked away immediately and kept her focus to the ground. Cobblestones were much easier to look at.

Any uneasiness the old woman created quickly swept itself away the moment she walked into the building. Even though the front of the building looked as though it were two stories high, the inside of the front room lacked that separation. The cathedral-like ceiling gave Erica the impression that she had walked into a museum--and the echoes created by her footsteps did little to help.

Bulletin boards and signs on either side of the foyer offered directions and miniature maps of the school that would have been helpful had they known where to go. Erica gripped the handles of her school bag tightly and kept quiet. Up until that point, she and her father hadn’t exchanged a word since they got out of the car. She didn’t dare speak. Her voice would no doubt bounce off the walls and probably shatter the entire school. No, it was best that her father speak.

Erica even went so far as to give him a look, prompting him to make the first move. In response, her father cleared his throat and nodded toward a corridor. “Guess we’ll look for administration, right?”

His voice was loud, even though he hadn’t meant it to be. Erica winced at the volume. Surely every student in the school could hear them? It was the middle of the day and no doubt classes were already in session. That was the problem with transferring after the start of term. At least she was allowed in, as if it that were an optimistic way of looking at things.

No sooner had they started down a corridor, hoping to bump into something that resembled an administration office, the clack-clack of heels on marble flooring sounded from behind them and Erica whirled around to face a very young, but very pretty woman.

Her hair rolled past her shoulders in what Erica thought was far too straight to be natural. Erica’s own hair was unruly and matted and one day she’d get a brush through it entirely, but today was not that day. There was no doubt that she was being scrutinized already.

“You must be Erica,” the perfectly nymph-like lady practically sang. Even her voice was lovely. It pissed her off so much that when she held out a delicate hand, Erica almost didn’t shake it. “I am Miss Morrell. I’m the Guidance Counselor here.”

Erica shook her hand, but was a bit hesitant. Usually authority figures kept their distance from her, but mostly because they knew her. Did Miss Morrell know about Erica’s epilepsy? It wasn’t like it was some contagious disease. Her brain just didn’t know how to be normal. And yet, people shied away from her like they might catch her spasms. Miss Morrell didn’t.

When Erica’s hand was set free, she hugged it to her chest and let her father sort through the official business with the guidance counselor. She led the two of them to her office where both Erica and her father had to sign even more papers than they already had. They had papers for everything. Advanced permission slips, transfer waivers, terms and agreements and emergency contact sheets. Erica even had to sign a form stating that she would not bring members of the opposite gender into the school or engage in any form of sexual intercourse. Erica almost laughed out loud at the very prospect.

“I’m sorry for all the paperwork,” Miss Morrell apologized. “Every year something happens and the parents become so paranoid we have to draw up another document. We have to cover every loophole. Now, as for your classes. I have your schedule here. Please look over it so that if changes need to be made, we will do so now.”

A piece of paper was slid across the desk for Erica to glance over, but she barely even gave it a second look. She didn’t even touch it. She just shrugged.

“Erica,” her father began. He had the tone of voice that indicated she was doing something he didn’t like. She hadn’t even done anything, yet. How could he be upset, already? She gave him a confused look. “Please be reasonable. This school is costing us a lot of money. Can you cooperate, at least a little bit?”

Finally, when Erica spoke, her mouth felt a bit too cottony for her own taste. “I am cooperating,” she frowned. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m not kicking and screaming at the door. I don’t care what classes I’m in, as long as people leave me alone.”

Miss Morrell cleared her throat a little bit and took back the schedule to file it away properly before pulling out a smaller sheet to hand to Erica, probably so she wouldn’t forget her classes. Erica watched her movements from her peripheral vision. Everything Miss Morrell did was predetermined and precise. Jeez, Erica had only seen two people from this place and they were both far too practiced in their positions. She wasn’t quite certain if that was a good thing or not.

“Now, Erica,” she warned. “Here at the Brookefield Academy we take great pride in our manners. We do not slouch and we always respect authority.”

Erica didn’t bother changing her posture. Proper posture made her back hurt. “Are you one of those schools that slaps wrists with a ruler? Because corporal punishment no longer exists,” she droned.

“No, you’re right,” Miss Morrell shifted in her seat a little bit, making her own posture even greater than it was already. Erica refused to acknowledge the hint. “But we can punish in other ways. As this is your first day, I will let you go with a warning, but your other instructors may not be as lenient.”

“Whatever.”

“Erica, please,” her father pleaded.

With a great sigh of disapproval, Erica sat up a bit straighter in her hair but kept her arms firmly folded across her chest. “Alright, fine. Are we done here?”

There was something in Miss Morrell’s face that heavily suggested she was grinding her teeth but instead she hit a button on her desk that indicated she was calling someone. Loud white noise erupted from her phone and a bright, almost too-cheerful voice sounded from the other end.

“Yeeees?”

Miss Morrell smiled as she spoke, which made her tone sound fake. “Miss Martin, the transfer student is here. Would you mind showing her to her room and getting her acquainted with the campus?”

“Be there in just one second!” Click.

Miss Morrell sat back in her chair, looking slightly relieved. “Miss Lydia Martin is the current Student Body President of your class and an excellent role model. I suggest you take a page from her book if you wish to have an enjoyable experience here at Brookefield.”

“Sounds like a threat,” said Erica.

“Erica!” her father interjected.

“It’s fine, Mr. Reyes,” Miss Morrell waved him off with a flick of her wrist that indicated she was used to dealing with unruly teenagers. “It was just advice, Erica. We really are very happy to have you here at Brookefield. I hope you will come to enjoy it here.” She tried her best to give Erica some kind of award-winning smile, but Erica only sneered back at her in a way that could be mistaken for a smile if someone tried really hard to believe it.

Any smart remark that Erica had hidden away in her back pocket was put to rest the moment someone knocked confidently on the door. Miss Morrell looked up from her desk with a relieved smile. “Ah, Lydia.”

Erica couldn’t help but turn around to see who this Lydia was. She hadn’t yet met a student. All the smiling faces on the brochures were most likely actors. No student ever looked that perfect unless there was some kind of photo doctoring involved...

Until now.

Erica froze in her seat when Lydia entered the room. Even though Lydia was dressed in her school regulation uniform, she made it look astounding. The buttons on her shirt didn’t stress themselves at her chest like everything Erica had ever worn (because no one knew how to put darts into button-down blouses properly). The red and gold plaid pleated skirt somehow managed to flair out at her hips and look perfect on her. When Erica had tried on her uniform in the mirror at home, her skirt had fallen flat and made her knees look massive. In fact, Erica soon found herself staring at Lydia’s knees like they were the most beautiful joints she’d ever seen and had to stop herself before anyone else noticed.

It wasn’t just her uniform that looked fabulous on her, either. Her strawberry blond hair was curled almost professionally and she had it pulled away from her face with a headband that matched the school colors. Even her makeup looked as though it were applied by an artist. Erica felt completely plain compared to her. She never messed with makeup or hair products. Her long blonde hair was a mess of tangles and her skin was so pale, she looked strange if she tried to apply foundation. Up until that point, it hadn’t bothered Erica, but suddenly she found herself out of place and she wanted to curl into the cushion of her chair and disappear.

Lydia looked down at her. She didn’t sneer, but she didn’t smile, either. Erica couldn’t help but feel as though Lydia were already categorizing her. Perhaps her entire student career rested on whichever group Lydia stuck her. Suddenly Erica hated her for being beautiful and the Junior Student Body President and existing.

“Lydia, this is Erica Reyes,” Miss Morrell began, taking the initiative with introductions like she hated long silences.

Then Lydia’s eyes widened and she smiled, causing Erica’s dislike for her to grow. The smile was for show, she could tell. The very fact that a fake smile was required just proved to Erica that Lydia was all about politics and public image. Erica really, really hoped she wouldn’t have to deal with her very much after her first day.

“It’s nice to meet you, Erica. I’m Lydia, as you know,” Lydia said, flashing her absolutely perfect teeth. Erica stared because it was the only thing she could think of to do. “Want to follow me? I’ll show you around campus.”

Erica looked to her father, who made a small gesture with his hands that clearly said: ‘ _Go on, get._ ’ He handed her the handle for her wheeled suitcase and gave her an awkward shoulder hug. He didn’t say goodbye, not out loud, but his face said it for him. Erica found herself thankful for the reprieve. A half-hearted wave and a small smile were all she needed to convey before she followed Lydia out the door.

And that was it. She wouldn’t see her either of her parents again until Christmas.

Once they were alone, Erica let out a touch of air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She’d been nervous around Miss Morrell and her father, but with the two of them gone, she found she felt lighter, somehow. Even Lydia seemed less intimidating now that it was just the two of them. Lydia looked strong, but Erica knew how to fight. She could take her if it came to that.

The minute they were out of earshot, Lydia slowed her pace from a brisk power walk to something normal people actually used and Erica was able to catch up.

“I have to know,” Lydia began, her voice brisk and regal. Erica wouldn’t have been surprised if Lydia had been royalty in another life. “I knew we were getting a new student, but I didn’t know it was you until I walked in. Why here? Why now?”

“Hold on a minute,” Erica shifted her bag on her shoulder. She’d hoped her father would be able to accompany her to her room so she wouldn’t have to deal with a book bag, a shoulder bag and a suitcase. Lydia hadn’t even offered to help, which Erica was now adding to the growing list of reasons why she disliked the girl. “You know who I am?”

Lydia stopped walking long enough to give Erica a look that very easily conveyed, ‘ _Bitch, please_ ,” to the point that Erica almost wanted to take a picture and post it online. “I’m from Beacon Hills, too, you know. A few of us are. It’s hard to miss a name like Erica Reyes.”

Erica scowled, “It sounds common enough to me.”

“You don’t know?,” Lydia asked. She pulled her shoulders back to make herself look taller and Erica just _knew _she was going to brag about herself. “Office Assistant, 7th and 8th grade. Do you know how big your file was? Fights, detention slips, and then you got pulled out of school by your parents. That’s not common to me.”__

__“What, so I’m a hero or something, now?” Erica asked, confused. If it weren’t for the fact that her classmates pretended to have seizures around her, she’d have thought she was invisible._ _

__Lydia just shrugged. “Not the word I would use, but your case definitely caught my eye.”_ _

__“My case?” Erica didn’t bother to hide the anger in her voice. What, was she a specimen to be studied, now?_ _

__They came to the end of the hallway and just as Lydia leaned on the lever to open the double doors, she looked directly at Erica and lowered her voice. “I think you will find that ambition does not necessarily equal impudence. I was curious because I recognized your name. Don’t hold that against me.”_ _

__Erica fell silent as Lydia opened the doors to reveal a covered walkway that lead to an adjacent building. Erica hadn’t seen this building from the front of the estate, but it carried the same theme as the newer portion of the school._ _

__“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.” Lydia shrugged, but her demeanor hinted that this probably wasn’t the end of that line of conversation. So what if Erica didn’t want to share every detail of her private life with someone she’d just met? She didn’t remember Lydia at all but it appeared as though they’d gone to the same middle school. Had Lydia made fun of her? Did Lydia know about her condition?_ _

__All hopes Erica ever had of starting anew blew away with the wind and she felt completely exposed. She gripped the handle of her suitcase tighter. All she wanted was to just go to her room and rot away in peace._ _

__“Just show me my room,” she said at last. “I can find my way around, later.”_ _

__Lydia gave Erica a good once over before clicking her tongue and saying, “Suit yourself, Reyes.”_ _

__The removal of her first name sounded even more impersonal. Was Erica supposed to call her Martin, now? How did that even work? Was there some kind of hidden boarding school etiquette that Erica needed to learn?--because whatever it was, Erica didn’t feel like learning it._ _

__At least Lydia was going to leave her alone. The redhead quickly changed from prying mode to tour guide mode, and Erica found herself settling back into quiet aloofness._ _

__“The original dorms caught fire in the eighties. Out of protest, I think. I, for one, am thankful for it because the new dorms have adhered to the eco-friendly standards of our ever-changing environment,” Lydia’s voice moved over the words as if they’d been rehearsed._ _

__Erica could have cared less about the school’s “rich heritage” or about the ugly painting of Cynthia Brookefield, the young lady for whom the school was built, that hung in the front room. Apparently it had been rescued from the eighties fire, but if you looked closely you could tell where a third of the painting had been recreated and Erica just really, really wanted to take a nap._ _

__In hopes of rushing the tour along, Erica eyed the elevators longingly and asked, “Do I get a roommate out of all this mess?”_ _

__Lydia glanced harshly at Erica as if she should keep her voice down if she were going to talk bad about the school. Erica wondered if there were cameras hiding in the fake plants that recorded their every move. Somehow, she didn’t doubt it. “You do, actually. But because you arrived after the start of term, you’ve been placed with another student who, up until now, had a room of her own.”_ _

__“Great,” Erica couldn’t hide her sarcasm if she tried. No doubt her roommate was going to hate her right off the bat. If she’d been promised a private room, she’d have been super pissed off to have that taken away from her._ _

__“Oh, it’s not me,” Lydia said quickly. Erica looked at her incredulously. She didn’t ask. Did everything have to revolve around Lydia? “I still have my own room.”_ _

__“Because you’re Student Body President?” Erica mockedLydia’s title as if it were some special privilege. Like living in Hollywood._ _

__“No, but it certainly helps. I’m the RA for our hallway. RAs don’t share rooms.”_ _

__“R...A?”_ _

__“Residential Advisor,” Lydia explained slowly, as if Erica had a disability. Erica was used to being treated like she was delayed, but the last place she wanted to experience that was here._ _

__“I’m new, not dumb,” she muttered. It sounded too much like a mantra for her own comfort._ _

__Lydia frowned, but it was only for a second before it was replaced by that awful fake smile again. “I never said you were. Come on, you’re on the third floor. Let’s meet your roommate. She transferred before the term started. You two can be new together.”_ _

__Erica should have felt better after learning that information but nothing changed. Lydia led her to the elevators and proceeded to escort her through the winding hallways. The walls were too plain and white and had no distinguishing characteristics to help Erica find her way again. It was worse than the hospital in some ways. At least hospitals had helpful nurses everywhere. The dormitories had fake plants._ _

__“Here we are,” Lydia stopped at what seemed like a completely random door and rocked back on her heels. She produced a tiny yellow envelope from the pocket of her skirt and presented it to Erica as if it were a precious gem. “Your room key.”_ _

__Relieved, Erica finally set down her bags and took the key from Lydia’s perfectly manicured hands. Were those done professionally, too? Who had time for any of that out in the middle of nowhere? Rather than dwell on it, though, Erica opened the envelope to produce a freshly cut key._ _

__Just before placing the key into the lock, Erica had the passing thought to knock first, just to let her roommate know she wasn’t just going to barge in. After a moment, she finished unlocking the door and opened it slowly._ _

__“Allison!” Lydia called from behind her, “Your new roomie is here!” Erica continued to push the door open to reveal a room no bigger than a private hospital room. At least she had that going for her. It was better furnished than a hospital room, though, which was a definite plus. This room, however, contained two beds, two desks, two dressers and one very pretty brunette._ _

__Erica’s roommate was standing in the middle of the floor in mid-pose, as if she’d been caught on her way to open the door. Erica couldn’t stop staring at her eyelashes or at the smile that was forming on her face as she slowly recognized the two girls who were invading her living space._ _

__“Hey, Lydia,” she said, leaning over a bit to wave behind Erica. Her attention was then shifted to focus directly on Erica and she moved forward, her hand extended. “You must be my new roommate. Sorry about the mess. I’ve been trying to clean my things off your side of the room. I’m Allison.”_ _

__Erica reached forward to take her hand and was surprised to find it wasn’t as soft as she thought it would be. Girls always had a gentle touch to their hands, but Allison’s had calluses and rough patches. “Erica.”_ _

__After they shook, Allison took a step back, like she felt awkward in her own skin, and folded her arms close to her body. “Did you bring any bags with you? I could help you bring them in.”_ _

__Erica looked down at her empty hands and realized that she’d left everything just outside the door when Lydia had given her the room key. “Oh uh,” she stammered. “They’re outside.”_ _

__Why did everyone in this school have to look like a supermodel? Lydia was gorgeous in a way that made Erica feel like she paled in comparison. Allison had a natural beauty to her that came from her defined cheekbones and beautiful smile. Erica had dishwater hair, pale, blotchy skin and bags under her eyes. She stuck out like a sore thumb._ _

__Allison pushed past both Erica and Lydia and actually helped bring in Erica’s belongings. Erica was too stunned to move at first, but quickly took hold of her suitcase handle from Allison and wheeled it to her side of the room._ _

__Lydia made a little sound in the back of her throat and it caused Erica to glance up from where she’d set her suitcase on her bed. She’d almost forgotten that Lydia was even there, partly because she was so quiet and partly because her new roommate was distracting._ _

__“Curfew is 9:00 on weekdays, ten on the weekends. Lights out is one hour after curfew. No loud music unless during an approved party time and no shouting. All disputes are to be brought to me or another RA. You two will be okay?”_ _

__Erica froze. Should she even answer? She didn’t even know this Allison girl, even though she made a wonderful first impression. It would just be Erica’s luck that the nice girl façade would disappear the moment Lydia left the room._ _

__Allison answered for her, though, with a quick, “Yep. See you in Chem, Lydia.”_ _

__“Toodles, then!” Lydia chirped. She spun around on her heel and quickly disappeared. Erica felt a sort of weight lift from her shoulders the moment Lydia left the room. For some reason, the redhead made her feel self conscious. Allison hadn’t had the same effect, but it was probably because next to Lydia, everyone in the world didn’t quite match up._ _

__Silence settled upon the room like a blanket. Erica turned back to her suitcase and finished opening it. She could at least start unpacking like a normal person, as mundane as the action was._ _

__She could feel Allison’s eyes on her, but she wasn’t going to be the one to make the first move. She still didn’t know anything about this girl. The wrong question could set her off for all Erica knew._ _

__“Welcome to Brookefield, Erica,” Allison said at length. Okay, so she wasn’t going to turn into a fire-breathing dragon lady. Erica was down with that._ _

__“Thanks,” she muttered._ _

__Allison sighed a bit, like she was trying hard to think of something to say. “I’m still learning the ropes, too. So... we can figure this place out together.”_ _

__“Okay,” Erica shrugged. What else did she want her to say?_ _

__They fell into another awkward silence, with Erica stuffing her dresser drawers full of clothing. Out of the corner of her eye, Erica noticed that Allison eventually began to gather a few things from her desktop and place them into her school bag._ _

__Allison really wasn’t a bad girl. Erica watched her through her peripherals for a little bit as she made sure her clothes and uniforms were folded properly. If anything Allison looked as nervous as Erica felt. If she was willing to try and form a friendship, then maybe Erica could give her a chance. A little one. Maybe. She did want to turn over a new leaf, after all._ _

__“Sorry you have to share a room with me. I know you probably preferred your own room,” Erica said. She immediately bit her lip and turned away, mentally chastising herself. What the hell was she thinking? The first thing she really says to her roommate is something condescending to herself. Good going, Erica._ _

__“Don’t be sorry!” urged Allison. “I’m actually really happy. Being new is hard when you’re always by yourself. I wanted a roommate, but it just didn’t work out that way. So... I’m glad you came here. Really.”_ _

__Erica turned to face Allison and was happy to find that her expression looked genuine. No one normal had ever _tried_ to be her friend. Sure she had a lot of friends in the hospital, but that was on a totally different level. Allison probably had a perfect life with no problems whatsoever. “That’s good,” and then, “Why aren’t you in class, anyway?”_ _

__“Free period. I was catching up on homework. I have to leave in a few minutes for my next hour, though. Are you starting your classes today?”_ _

__Erica shook her head, “Not today. I’m just unpacking and I think I’ll give myself a tour. I officially start tomorrow.”_ _

__“Do you have your schedule?”_ _

__“Yeah, it’s around here somewhere...” Erica shifted through her shoulder bag and book bag until she found the proper documentation. Once located, she handed the folded up schedule to Allison who looked it over with the precision of a lawyer before handing it back to Erica.  
“We have first period together which is really convenient. We can walk to class together in the mornings!” She sounded way happier than she should have._ _

__All Erica got out of that was that she’d have to wake up early every morning which was not in her plan at all. And yet, around Allison, it was hard not to feel excited about the school year. Her roommate was turning out to be easy to get along with and she didn’t get on Erica’s nerves. Yet. “Sounds great,” Erica said at last, with the ghost of a smile._ _

__Maybe this place wasn’t so bad—granted Erica didn’t run into Lydia anymore. She couldn’t handle her pompous personality and she definitely couldn’t figure out why it was so easy for Allison to be nice to her. Maybe Allison was one of those people who just happened to be nice to everyone. It would be a nice change, Erica thought._ _

__Hope welled up inside her. It felt strange and she wondered if maybe she was actually excited to start classes. The concept was so foreign that she used the jittery feeling to keep herself locked up in her room for the rest of the day as opposed to actually touring campus. She’d figure it out tomorrow._ _


	3. The First Day

It didn’t take long for the first day of classes to go completely sour. Allison woke Erica up bright and early and helped her put on her uniform according to the dress code.

Erica was not shy with her body. After being poked and prodded for so many years in the hospital, she was used to her body becoming something of an extension of herself as opposed to being an actual part of her. In fact, her own brain didn’t even like being with the other half of itself, considering how many times it tried to light itself up.

And yet when Allison undressed right there in the middle of the room, Erica had to turn away quickly. This was a combination of her school and her home, now, and that just wasn’t something someone did in either of those locations. The worst part was that she couldn’t even escape into a restroom to change. She had to follow suit and would keep following suit every day for two thirds of the year. Great.

Allison had no qualms about helping Erica button up her blouse, either. Once she took notice of Erica struggling to make the buttons work, she marched over to Erica’s side of the room and finished the job.

“Skirts have to be knee length at the least,” Allison lectured, tugging down Erica’s skirt a little bit.

Erica stared down at the awkward length. “Lydia had hers over her knees yesterday. Isn’t she supposed to be an example?”

Allison laughed as she took a step back, admiring Erica like she was a recently finished sculpture. “Lydia goes by her own rules, I think. Don’t worry about her. You’re here to worry about you and only you, right? Education comes first.”

“Sounds like someone’s said that to you, before,” murmured Erica.

Allison looked distracted for a moment and then shook her head, “Just something my dad says. No biggie.”

Erica knew they weren’t going to get into each other’s back stories after their first day, but she couldn’t help feeling curious. She opened her mouth to say something but Allison cut her off by ushering her out the door and shoving her bag into her arms.

The walk across campus to their first class was relatively uneventful. Erica made it her duty to keep her eyes to the floor. She knew the moment she looked around at all her new classmates, she would start comparing herself to them and she really didn’t need that at the moment.

She could feel the uncomfortable heat of stares as she walked through the corridors. New kids always had that kind of treatment. Erica had to tell herself over and over that they were staring because she was new, not because she was doing anything out of the ordinary. After all, she’d seen new kids come and go during her brief stint at public school. She knew the drill: Just find one person and stick to them.

Allison was more than accommodating, too. Once they made it to their homeroom together, Allison took it upon herself to move her seat to a spot where she could sit next to Erica. 

“This is great, isn’t it?” Allison said, setting her school bag beside her chair.

“What is? School?” Erica asked.

“No, sitting next to a friend,” Allison smiled.

Erica couldn’t help but to smile back. “Yeah, it really takes the edge off being the new girl.”

“I’m still the new girl, too, remember?” Allison nudged her. “We’re in this together.”

“I guess I lucked out then, didn’t I?” Erica said. Even her sarcasm was starting to dissipate a little bit. She’d never had a best friend growing up. She’d always been a bit of a loner and had used her sarcasm as a defense to keep people from hurting her, but Allison genuinely wanted to be her friend. Erica didn’t know whether to accept it or to be cautious.

Allison opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the teacher’s entrance into the room. Erica wasn’t at all surprised to find that her homeroom teacher was female. Did they even have an all female staff at this place? Her schedule didn’t offer any clues except the last names of all her instructors.

“Settle down, girls. Turn around, face front,” she snapped. Her voice had a stern quality to it that reminded Erica of a grumpy librarian from old movies. She even dressed to fit the image. Her graying hair was wound tight into a bun and her clothes looked freshly ironed and like they’d been around since the 1920s. “I see there is no need to introduce our newest transfer student. I know how word travels around with you ladies. Even though I’m sure my request will fall on deaf ears, please show Miss Erica the respect and courtesy we strive to teach you all here at Brookefield.”

Erica exchanged a relieved glance with Allison. She thought she was going to have to stand up in front of class and introduce herself like in every high school television drama. She settled a little more easily into her seat after that.

“Now,” the librarian instructor continued. “Attendance and morning announcements.”

Erica quickly found that homeroom at Brookefield really meant catching up on gossip and getting the answers to the previous night’s homework while the teacher read off the morning announcements and took attendance. Once the other girls settled into their routine, Erica turned once more to Allison.

“She introduced me but not herself. How rude is that?” she whispered.

Allison shrugged. “That’s Ms. Stonegate. From what I’ve gathered from the other girls is that she never married and legally changed her surname to Stonegate to better reflect her personality.”

“That’s a load of crap,” Erica spat.

Allison had to place a hand in front of her mouth to keep her laughter contained. “That’s what I thought, too. For all we know she’s divorced, or maybe she’s a cougar.”

Erica took another look at Ms. Stonegate, with her steely frame and wire-rimmed glasses as she read from the morning’s announcements. She was a private person. Erica got that. It made her wonder what kind of stories the girls would make up about her, though, which caused an uneasy feeling to settle in her stomach.

Instead of an electronic bell to indicate the start and end of classes, Brookefield used an older bell with a long and drawn out chime. It reminded Erica of church bells which she found odd considering Brookefield had to have been one of the only all-girls boarding schools that wasn’t run by nuns and the Catholic Church.

Allison did her best to direct Erica in the proper direction for her next class, but the winding halls of the school quickly became confusing. The lack of truly distinguishing characteristics in the hallways only made things tougher, and the door numbers seemed to be in an order of their own. 

In the end, Erica was a few minutes late to her English class. As a consequence, she was forced to introduce herself to the entire class by the instructor, a plump, middle-aged woman named Dr. Breithaupt who thought she was doing Erica a favor.

Erica took deep breaths. It was bad enough already that Allison wasn’t in her English class, but having to introduce herself to a class filled with strange but far-too-beautiful girls? Erica couldn’t take it. She could feel her entire body grow hot with an embarrassed flush and she swore the lights were just growing brighter and hotter until she had to squint against them. She hugged her school bag to her chest in hopes that it would cover her up a little bit as she tried to choke out her words.

“Um, I’m…. uh, Erica Reyes.”

“Speak louder!” a girl from the back row piped up. A few snickers echoed her words.

Erica cleared her throat. “I’m Erica Reyes. I’m from Beacon Hills.” She looked frantically toward Dr. Breithaupt who was looking at her intently. She nudged her hands forward as if to say ‘go on’ but Erica just shrugged. What more was there to say?

“Tell us a bit about yourself, dear!” Dr. Breithaupt squeaked. Her voice was too high pitched to be human. “What are your hobbies? Interests? Favorite books?”

The problem with impromptu biographical speeches was that they had a fantastic way of emptying the mind. It felt like Erica stood there for hours as she tried desperately to find something she liked. She liked a lot of things, but somehow everything she was into seemed dull and uninteresting. After some time, she decided to say the first thing that came to her mind.

“I like music and um… TV? I guess? I don’t have a favorite book, but I liked _The Giver_?” She ended every sentence like a question, as if she weren’t sure of her own decisions, which was entirely true. She remembered reading _The Giver_ in grade school and that it gave her the creeps, but it was the first book that popped into her head.

Her mini speech must have been enough for Dr. Breithaupt because Erica was allowed to finally sit down. She curled in on herself to keep the stares away and tried to ignore anyone who spoke to her. 

The rest of the morning was like one panic attack after another. After English she had Chemistry with a professor who refused to brush her hair, ever. She didn’t have to make a speech, though and ended up trying to drown herself in her work. She could tell off the bat she was going to need help with this class because they were already working on their first test.

After Chemistry was French which happened to be more of the same. When lunchtime finally came, Erica had never been more grateful for the cafeteria. It was easy to find considering she followed the crowds and the smell of foods but she still didn’t know how to figure anything out for herself.

A sudden bump at her hip caused her to jump and she turned to see Allison smiling widely at her.

“Hey, how was your morning?” Allison asked. She practically shoved Erica into a lunch line. At this point, Erica was so exhausted from trying to become invisible that she welcomed the push.

“It was okay,” Erica answered. She mimicked Allison’s actions by grabbing a tray and silverware.

“Oh come on, I can spot a liar a million miles away. It was horrible, wasn’t it?”

Erica clenched her teeth and grabbed more napkins than was strictly necessary. “It was awful. I felt like a clown or I had an arm growing out of my forehead.”

“That’s how I felt. It’ll stop, eventually,” Allison sounded so reassuring that Erica wanted to believe her. As they made it through the lunch line, Erica accepted all of Allison’s food suggestions and they made their way over to a table which Allison must have grown accustomed.

“So we have absolutely no classes together?” Erica brought up as soon as they were sitting. “Just homeroom? That’s awful.”

“Well, there’s Trig,” Allison said.

“You never said we had another class together!” Erica pointed out. “You just said we had homeroom.”

Allison pointed a carrot stick at Erica for a second before popping it between her teeth with a loud crunch. “I said we had homeroom so we could walk to school together. I never said anything about other classes. I’ve got my free period after lunch, and then Chemistry and then Trigonometry with you. What do you have?”

“I already had Chemistry with Professor Rat’s Nest,” Erica explained. “Right after lunch I have my free period, then Government and Trig.”

“If you want, we can go back to the dorm room during our free period. I have a lot of homework and I want to get a head start. And it’d be nice to get away from the crowds and excess perfume, right?”

Erica rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, I’m so glad you said something. I smell perfume and hair spray everywhere I go. And if I see one more tube of lip gloss I’ll probably puke.”

“Not big on makeup, huh?”

“Allison, look at me,” Erica said and indicated her rather plain face. “You’ll be lucky if I put on chapstick.”

“That’s a shame,” a far too cheerful voice said from behind them. Both Allison and Erica turned around to see Lydia grinning with her perfectly sculpted lips. “Blonde hair is such a rarity with brown eyes. You could do wonders with a little eyeshadow.”

Erica narrowed her eyes without even thinking, “Nice to see you finally show up, Lydia. Where’ve you been all day?”

Lydia either looked hurt, or she was faking it. “I’ve been here the entire time, Erica. We’ve had two classes together so far.”

Erica felt her jaw drop before she realized it. “No we didn’t. I would have known.” She really would have. Lydia had a presence that demanded to be seen, not ignored.

“Uh, yeah?” Lydia’s voice made Erica feel even smaller. “English and French? Quite the public speaker, aren’t you?”

Erica tried to jostle her memory for Lydia’s face. She’d been so caught up in staring at the ground or trying to keep herself invisible that maybe she hadn’t noticed. She barely even registered her other classmates. They revolved around her in a blur of perfect hair and sharp giggles. No one made the effort to speak to her unless they were a teacher. The fact that Lydia knew Erica but hadn’t stepped up to do anything about it actually hurt a little. Instead of giving Lydia a clever comeback, she stayed quiet.

“Lydia,” Allison began, her voice soft. “Shouldn’t you be making an effort to include Erica? Like you did with me?”

Lydia folded her arms across her chest and gave Erica a hard stare. Erica would have killed to know what she was thinking. She hated having to guess everything all the time. She also hated Allison fighting her battles for her. She was more than capable of doing things on her own. She just had to get over a little initial shyness, that was all. 

Finally, Lydia spoke up, still keeping her gaze locked on Erica. “You’re not going to go delinquent on me, are you?”

“Do I look like a delinquent?” Erica snapped.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Lydia snapped back. With that, she sauntered off, her skirt swishing at perfect angles as she walked.

Erica turned back to her food, and scowled at it, having suddenly lost her appetite. “What crawled up her ass and died?”

Allison snorted a little but covered it up with a, “Hey! This is strange for her, actually. Lydia is normally a very nice person. At least, she was always nice to me. I don’t know why she’s being so hostile toward you.”

“Just my luck,” Erica groaned.

Free period with Allison was another blessing. Even after one day, the dorm room already felt like home. Erica preferred it to any other place in the school. Allison helped her pour over French verbs and get her caught up with her English assignments. 

Even when they had to go back to classes, Erica found that Government wasn’t so bad. Allison had given her a new confidence and it seemed as though some of the girls had seen the exchange between Lydia and Erica in the cafeteria. One girl even went so far as to deliberately sit next to Erica and introduce herself as Rebecca and shared her notes.

That tiny interaction helped Erica to sit up a little straighter and to take in a bit more of her surroundings. The Government teacher, Mr. Stellhorn, was one of the only male teachers in the school and he was an old man who kept to his lectures behind his podium and didn’t even recognize Erica’s existence, or anyone else’s for that matter. It was actually kind of nice.

When it came time for Trigonometry, Erica wasn’t even looking down at the floor anymore. She was staring straight again, keeping tab of the door numbers. Halfway down the hall, Allison caught up with her and together they walked the rest of the way to class.

Allison even commented on the change in Erica’s attitude and Erica took it all in stride. “Are you kidding me?” Erica said, “This is my last class of the day and I get to take it with someone I know. I think I can handle this school.”

Whatever Allison said next was lost the moment Erica looked across the classroom and saw Lydia sitting in the corner filing down a perfectly manicured nail. Was there even a reason to file her nails? Erica wondered if it was all for show. Her mood instantly dropped and she made it a point to try and give Lydia a wide berth.

Lydia, of course, would have none of it, and set her file down on her desk with a loud snap and gave Erica a predatory grin. “Hello, brown eyes,” she purred. “Want to sit next to me?”

Erica glanced around at the various other empty chairs. “I’m sure there are plenty of other seats…”

“Where are your manners, Erica dear? Here I am making an effort…” Lydia’s voice drawled. Erica cringed. She hated being played like a violin, but she sat down next to Lydia anyway, with Allison cautiously sitting behind her.

Lydia leaned purposely across the aisle toward Erica’s desk. Her school issued blouse was buttoned in such a way that the action gave Erica a glorious view of her camisole. Erica swallowed. Hard. And she had no idea why. “I’m sure you’ll want to have a tutor to get you up to speed with this class.”

Erica leaned backward a bit, trying to get as far away from Lydia as possible. “Allison’s pretty much doing that, already.”

“Oh, but I’m helping Allison with her Trig homework,” Lydia cooed. “How convenient for you that you’re roommates!”

Erica looked over at Allison for confirmation who shrugged helplessly. “Lydia’s been helping me since day one.”

“Okay, fine, but you don’t have to be so dramatic about it,” Erica told Lydia.

Lydia brought her body back to her chair and folded her legs. “It’s more fun that way. I mean it, though. I learn better if I teach someone. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.”

“Glad to know I can help,” Erica said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. It was so hard to try and play nice with Lydia. She wasn’t exactly the most sincere candidate.

Erica had to suffer through the rest of class with Lydia purposely dropping various items or showing off her mathematical knowledge with the rest of class. It was such a strange environment at Brookefield. For someone to be so smart in any one subject was considered a bad thing back at Beacon Hills. Here, it was exalted. It was no wonder Lydia was such an accomplished student. Her skills were clearly appreciated, here. Too bad she’d let it all go to her beautiful strawberry blonde head.

After class was over, Lydia quickly shoved her materials into her school bag and barely said a goodbye before she was out the door.

Before Erica even had the chance to ask, Allison was already answering her question. “After school is time for electives and Lydia has a handful of them. I don’t think that girl ever takes a break.”

“Huh,” Erica shrugged. “That’s what she gets for overachieving.”

Allison quickly changed the subject. “What electives are you taking?”

“I don’t know,” Erica said, “You mean like clubs?”

“Yeah, you know, like Drama or Softball? I take archery. It’s a great relaxer for me. You can come watch if you like.”

“Yeah… okay.”

Erica followed Allison out of the classroom. The air about the school had changed drastically from morning to afternoon. Girls brushed past each other in a hurry as they moved to various parts of the school for their electives. Now that the generalization of classes was out of the picture, Erica could really see the cliques starting to form.

Swimmers, artists, sports players, musicians and intellectuals began sorting themselves out. Erica suddenly had no idea where she belonged. She never thought herself to be particularly artistic, and then there was the concept of sports where she had no confidence. She was smart, but not smart enough to want to join the Matheletes or the Debate Team. Her only hobby outside of reading and listening to music was working on the car with her father, but it seemed as though Brookefield frowned on the concept of automechanics.

So Erica followed Allison to the archery range and sat down on the grass to watch Allison shoot arrow after arrow into different targets.

As she watched, she pulled out a notebook and wrote down a few observations from her first day and as she sorted through all the mess, she realized that only a few things actually stood out. While she had been miserable throughout most of the day, in the end, she only remembered the good and the occasional Lydia.

She could make it through the year, so long as nothing big ever happened.


	4. Subtle Changes

When Erica came to Brookefield, school had already been in session for three weeks. By the time she felt completely settled in, it was already October. Erica thought the worst of her stay was behind her and everything from there on out was smooth sailing.

Erica slowly became more confident in herself. She still hadn’t become friends with Lydia, but she was actually starting to enjoy the sarcastic battles they had back and forth. Lydia would start the day off with a snarky comment about Erica’s hair and Erica would dignify Lydia with a response about her choice in earrings. It wasn’t even malicious anymore. It had become routine. Erica still wouldn’t classify the two of them as anything other than rivals, although they had nothing to compete for except perhaps Allison.

The friendship between Erica and Allison grew. Erica found that her panic attacks were getting fewer and further between now that she was becoming more and more comfortable with her surroundings. Allison kept her above water when it came to classes and she was above all things, great at conversation.

As it turned out, Allison had been everywhere. She traveled a lot with her father and mother, but by the time she was sixteen, she was tired of it and asked to be sent to a boarding school so that she could stay in one place while her parents moved around for their business. It had taken a lot of convincing on her end, but it was worth it because she found Brookefield. She finally felt like a normal teenage girl.

Erica let Allison in on a little bit about her past. She still didn’t mention the seizures. She told Allison that she was homeschooled and her frequent panic attacks made it hard for her to fit in at public school so she requested to come here, instead. It was a good a story as any and it was still true for the most part.

Everyone had a vice and for Allison it was the internet. When she wasn’t studying or hanging out with Erica, she was on her laptop with her headphones in, laughing at something or other. Most days Erica left her alone and concentrated on schoolwork or books but after a while, her own curiosity got the best of her and she stood behind Allison one day just to see what was so hilarious.

It looked like she was on some sort of forum. Erica gave Allison a soft tap on her shoulder to indicate her presence and Allison removed her headphones.

“What are you doing?” Erica asked, pointing to the strange website.

Allison blushed a little and tried to lower her laptop screen, but probably realized it was too late. “It’s a forum about, um, supernatural things.”

“Oh, like ghosts and stuff?” Erica asked, genuinely interested. She had no idea her roommate was into that kind of thing.

“More like… werewolves,” Allison said the last word quietly, like she was afraid that word alone would change Erica’s view of her.

Erica felt a bit hurt that Allison would think such a thing, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she pulled her own desk chair over and sat next to Allison at her desk. “Cool, so, you think they exist?”

“No! No, no, no,” Allison said quickly. “I just, I think they’re cool. My family crest is a wolf and I just… I’ve liked them since I was little. I have a lot of online friends on this forum.”

“But could they exist?” Erica asked. She was genuinely interested. Allison had been a nice and caring friend before but aside from her archery business, she’d been a little boring. This actually brought a whole new side to Allison that Erica definitely liked. “Like for real?”

Allison shook her head and laughed a little, “No, that’s silly. A human can’t turn into a wolf. I just think it’s fun, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Erica said, a little disappointed. She would have liked to have read up on werewolf conspiracy theories. Conspiracy theories were always awesome. “Well, what are you guys talking about?”

“Just um… just things,” Allison said, and this time she actually closed her laptop. “Just, you know…”

Erica raised her eyebrows, trying to nudge Allison along.

Allison sighed loudly and opened her laptop again. “I’m talking to a guy.”

“Oh, a guy?”

“He’s into werewolves, too. Like… on some kind of weird personal level. We met because he kept asking about bloodlust and if it were possible for there to be nice werewolves,” she was flushing even harder as she spoke.

“What kind of guy likes nice werewolves?”

“I don’t know? Maybe he’s writing a book or something. He’s really sweet.”

“He could be a girl, you know.”

“I know,” Allison rolled her eyes. “Or a 40 year old man. I know the speech.”

“How do you know he’s not a girl?” Erica asked.

“Because we’ve sent pictures to each other. And I know that’s him, too, because we’ve talked on webcam and—“

“Wait! I don’t remember this!” Erica interrupted. Surely she would have known there was webcamming going on in her bedroom?

“It was always when you were busy studying or asleep. And we’d just have the cameras on and just type or… or make faces and… oh god this is so embarrassing.”

Erica was grinning widely. “I think it’s adorable. Allison has a boyfriend,” she sang.

Allison shoved at her a little bit, but it wasn’t out of anger. “What about you, then? Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

The laughter died almost immediately but it wasn’t replaced with an awkward silence. Erica just shrugged. “Nope. I don’t think it was ever an option for me.”

“Oh, are you…” Allison’s voice trailed off like she didn’t know if she should state what she was thinking.

“What, gay?” Erica finished for her.

Allison looked guilty.

Erica just laughed. “I don’t think so. Not that I know of. I’ve just been too busy with everything else to really care about boys or girls or anything.”

“Maybe the right person hasn’t come along, yet,” Allison offered.

“Maybe I need to focus on fixing me before I try and find myself a boyfriend,” Erica corrected.

“I think you’re fine the way you are.”

“I think you’re delusional.”

“It’s the truth!”

“Says the girl who believes in werewolves.”

“Touché.”

*

Eventually everyone stopped treating Erica like she was a new specimen to be studied and she gratefully began to blend into the background just like she’d wanted.

She even started to use homeroom for the same reasons as the other girls. She caught up with homework and exchanged answers with Allison and completely ignored Ms. Stonegate’s announcements.

Everything was routine. Everything ran smoothly.

Until one day, Ms. Stonegate made an extra effort to quiet down the homeroom class.

“Ladies!” she said, raising both hands into the air. It was rare for her to call attention in this way so it didn’t take long before everyone in the classroom fell silent. Ms. Stonegate held up a light pink flyer and immediately the room began to buzz again.

“What is that?” Erica whispered quickly to Allison, who shrugged.

Ms. Stonegate motioned for the girls to quiet down again. “The Student Council has finally decided on a date for the Fall Formal. For those who are unaware, Brookefield hosts a very distinguished formal every year at the beginning of the year to welcome the students back to class. It is tradition for our companion school, Crestwing to attend. This year, however, there will be some changes.”

There was a collective groan from the other girls in the classroom. Erica didn’t know what to think, however. Was the formal mandatory? She didn’t have a proper dress. She had been told to bring a dress, but she had no idea she would need a formal gown. She’d brought a church dress with her that in no way would fit in at a Formal. She wondered if she could just skip it all together.

“Students are no longer allowed to bring a guest from outside either of the schools,” Ms. Stonegate began but was cut off by another collective groan. Erica shot Allison a sympathetic look. No doubt she was thinking about taking her werewolf enthusiast. “Due to the more… provocative dancing we’ve seen in the past, the Board of Directors has decided to represent our school in a more respective manner. Therefore we will have mandatory dance lessons with the boys from Crestwing.”

The collective groan was louder this time, and Erica groaned along with the rest of her classmates. She didn’t care one way or another about dance lessons, but the fact that they were mandatory suddenly changed everything. She’d finally gotten her bearings at this school and now they wanted to throw even more strangers at her? 

“The dance will take place the second Saturday in November. For two evenings a week until then, students from Crestwing will arrive for lessons.”

It was official. This school wanted her to have a heart attack. At least with public school the dances were optional. Judging by the general moaning going on in the room, it looked like she wasn’t the only one who felt that way, which was comforting.

Things didn’t look much better when Erica stepped into her English class later that morning to find Lydia smiling broadly. Erica knew she had something to do with the dance, not just because she was Lydia but because she was on the Student Council and surely they had a hand in everything.

“Really?” Erica said, taking a seat next to Lydia as if she didn’t try to avoid her. “Dance lessons?”

Lydia still looked smug. “It was either that or no dance at all, and we can’t have that, can we?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course you wouldn’t mind. Some of us actually happen to enjoy school dances.”

“Why? Because I’m sure every boy at that Chicken Wing school lines up to dance with you?” Erica snapped.

“You know,” Lydia began, obviously taking what Erica said as a compliment rather than an insult. Erica wasn’t even sure which one it was, herself. “If you curled your hair a little, you could get just as many boys.”

“I don’t care about making boys like me,” Erica stated.

“Obviously.”

“I care about my grades. And just surviving school in general,” she said quickly, in case Lydia decided to ask questions about her sexual orientation just as Allison had.

“All I’m saying,” Lydia said, putting her hands out in front of her in a defensive position, “Is that you have a natural beauty that can be easily enhanced if you just let it. Haven’t you ever wanted to try?”

“Not really. And especially not to impress some guy.”

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. A little confidence goes a long way,” Lydia said, tapping the eraser of her pencil on her cheek. Erica knew what Lydia was saying was correct—at least on the confidence level. She was already showing improvement on a colossal scale based on the small amount of confidence Allison had given her already.

“If I let you do my makeup for the dance, will you get off my case?”

“Absolutely.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“Great!” Lydia clapped her hands together once. “I have so many ideas. You sure we can’t try them out any sooner?”

“I’m sure,” Erica muttered before opening her school bag to retrieve her items for class. Lydia could talk all she wanted about external beauty. Erica knew it wouldn’t change all the problems she had inside of her and at this point, that was the part that mattered.

*

Gossip about the Fall Formal spread like wildfire. The pink flyer Ms. Stonegate held up during homeroom could be seen attached to every bulletin board all over school. Groups of girls huddled in on each other as they discussed their formal gowns and hairstyles. The hottest topic, of course, was Crestwing.

Erica barely even knew Crestwing existed. She knew that a school for boys existed somewhere in the Beacon Hills area, but up until now she hadn’t cared. She still didn’t care for that matter. She just hoped she would be paired up with someone during the dance lessons that wasn’t a complete monster.

After all, the guys were the worst when it came to the physical bullying. Girls would taunt her, but guys would push her around, trying to trigger her. She didn’t mean to lump all males into one massive category based on the transgressions of a few complete jerks, but it was hard not to. As much as Erica showed her support for Allison and her boyfriend, so long as she never had to meet him, she was okay with it. 

As the date for the first mandatory dance lessons grew closer, the gossip became worse. Girls began fighting over which boys they would approach and which boys they would avoid. Erica mostly tuned out the noise, but some of it was hard to ignore.

Especially when it came from Lydia.

“Who are you going to ask to dance, Lydia?” a skinny girl from English class asked one day. If Erica ever dawdled after homeroom and arrived to her second hour just a few seconds before class started, the seat next to Lydia was often occupied by this same skinny girl with a pixie haircut and the largest brown eyes Lydia had ever seen. She was cute, but she hung on to every word Lydia ever said and while it was adorable at first, it was slowly getting annoying.

“I’m not asking anyone,” Lydia responded. “I’m letting them come to me.”

“Yes, but who are you going to accept?” the mousey girl pressed further. Erica listened from her seat in the back row as she tried to copy the daily proofreads from the front board.

“I’m not sure. Probably the first boy who can keep up with me,” Lydia said. She actually thought about her answer for a second and looked so smug about it that Erica wished she was immature enough to throw spit balls.

“What about Jackson?”

Erica had heard the name Jackson before. It was one of the names thrown around by a lot of the girls whenever they talked about the guys they would actually ask. It seemed he was popular and good-looking and great at sports and recently back on the market.

Lydia’s voice suddenly became dark. “I’m too good for him.”

Erica’s head snapped up. She never heard Lydia speak like that and it caught her off guard. She assumed that Lydia would automatically say yes to someone who was obviously in high demand. Wasn’t it completely natural for the male’s choice and the female’s choice to just get together and leave everyone else in the dust?

“I know, but,” the mousey girl started again. Would she just stop pushing? “What if he asks for you back?”

Erica did a double take. Back?

“Jackson is an ass hole and I’m never taking him back. End of discussion,” Lydia said with an air of finality to her voice. She even demonstrated this by turning just so in her seat so that the mousey girl would stop asking.

Well that made sense. Of course the best guy and best girl weren’t getting together. Apparently they already had and it hadn’t worked out. No wonder everyone talked about him in hushed whispers and never around Lydia. She was the reason he was recently back on the market. Erica made a mental note to keep a wide berth from this Jackson guy. The last thing she wanted to do at an all-girls school was to get swept up in drama.

Erica found herself partially distracted throughout the rest of class to the point that she didn’t even notice when the bell chimed at the end of the period. The shuffling of students’ desks and schoolbags broke her from her trance so suddenly that she jumped a little in her desk.

“Hey, brown-eyes,” Lydia’s familiar voice almost made Erica jump again. She closed her notebook and looked up to see Lydia adjusting the strap on her schoolbag. “Do me a favor and get to class on time next time.”

Erica frowned, “I was on time.”

“You know what I mean,” Lydia sighed and all but rolled her eyes. “At least when you sit next to me, you leave me alone.” She glanced over to the front of the room where the skinny girl with the pixie cut seemed to be hanging back, probably hoping to catch Lydia on her way out.

Erica grinned at the mousey girl and raised her eyebrows at Lydia, “I think she’s got a crush on you.”

“Of course she does,” Lydia hissed. “Most people do. It would be cute if she wasn’t so annoying or if she actually held still but…” she trailed off and gave Erica a pleading look.

Erica wished she had a mental camera so she could take a picture of this moment. Lydia was actually asking Erica for help and looking desperate about it. Erica couldn’t help the smug look that traveled across her face. “Is this because she asked you about Jackson?”

“Watch it,” Lydia warned, pointing a finger at Erica. “Don’t make me avoid you, too.”

Erica held her hands up in front of her in defense, “Relax, I don’t even know who he is and I don’t even care. I’ll save you from Miss Adderall over there but I think you’re making a mistake. She’s adorable right down to her moles and you should give her a chance.”

Lydia shot her a look that would have been threatening if she hadn’t just asked Erica for a favor. “Just because this is a Boarding School doesn’t mean we’re all lesbians,” she snapped.

”Suit yourself.”

*

Throughout the week, Lydia actually stayed closer to Erica than she would have liked. Normally, Erica enjoyed her time alone with Allison in the cafeteria, but now Lydia had infiltrated their table.

They mostly ate in silence, with Lydia making the occasional comment about Erica’s lack of accessories. Erica hated not being able to catch up with Allison properly because she felt as though Lydia were listening in on their private lives. And, really, it was Allison who had the private life. Erica missed talking about werewolves and internet boyfriends with her. Lydia would just poke fun.

After the third day, Erica cracked and finally brought up the pink elephant in the cafeteria. “Lydia,” she said as the strawberry blonde Student Body President sat down with her salad, “What happened to your old table?”

“Oh, them?” she indicated to a table filled with girls who probably modeled in their spare time. All of them were texting under the table. “They’re boring.”

Erica didn’t buy it, and neither did Allison. The brunette placed a caring hand on Lydia’s side of the table and said in a quiet voice. “You can tell us, you know. We’re your friends.”

Erica really wanted to point out that, no, they weren’t and that they were only tolerating her but she held her tongue.

Lydia looked from Erica to Allison and deflated a little bit. Erica really hoped it wasn’t a sob story. “All they want to talk about is who gets to have Jackson. It’s getting old.” Ah, well, she should have guessed.

“I’m sorry,” Allison said. She sounded so sincere. Erica wondered if it were even possible to be that nice or if Allison faked it.

“If it were up to me,” Erica chimed in, “I’d just skip the whole dance lesson thing anyway.”

“You can’t skip lessons,” Lydia barked. “They’re mandatory.”

“Not if no one finds out,” Erica grinned.

Lydia pointed to herself dramatically. “Junior Student Body President?”

Erica rolled her eyes in response. Buzzkill.

Allison sighed. “I think all the hype about these lessons is worse than the actual dance. I feel like they should just number us off instead of having us choose. It would get rid of some of these girl fights. I’ve never seen so much hair pulling in one bathroom, before.”

Lydia silently watched Allison speak and then suddenly threw her arms around the brunette with a high pitched squeak. “Allison, you’re a genius!”

Allison looked taken aback. “Surely I’m not the first person to suggest random pairings?”

“In a room full of those girls? You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Lydia motioned toward her old table again. “I’m going to bring this up with the Dean. This will make everything so much better!” 

With a tiny wave, Lydia picked up her tray and scampered away. Erica and Allison exchanged a quick, confused look before letting out a weird laugh. 

“Thanks, I guess?” Erica said with a shrug.

“You’re welcome,” Allison grinned.

“Now that she’s gone, can you catch me up with your werewolf boyfriend?”

Allison burst into laughter.

*

The Dean absolutely loved Allison’s idea which meant that everyone else hated it.

Erica thought she had it bad when Lydia was attached to her before, but now it was like Lydia had no other choice. People stared at her as she walked down the hallways and not in a good way. Before, Lydia had walked down the halls with the attitude that she’d owned the place, but now it looked absolutely forced.

It was a little bit sad to watch—to the point that Erica even allowed Lydia to sit with them at lunch with very little resistance. Lydia tried to make it look like it didn’t bother her, but Erica could tell it did. She had bags under her eyes that actually showed through her perfectly matched foundation.

Somewhere in between Erica’s first day and the entire study body holding a grudge against Lydia for ruining their dance lessons, Lydia actually became tolerable. After school was out, Erica usually went with Allison to her archery practice, but one day, Lydia requested that Erica accompany her to her extra-curricular activities.

“Why?” Erica asked.

“Because it’s bad enough dealing with these bitches at school. I’m not about to have them ruin my clubs. Just come with me, please? Maybe you’ll like my clubs.” Lydia leaned against the wall just outside the Trigonometry classroom. Allison had already rushed off to archery after a quick hug. Erica felt abandoned.

Erica held out her hand as if she was going to start counting on her fingers. “How many favors do you owe me, now?”

“Just shut up and come with me?”

“Because the Mathletes sound so interesting.”

Lydia glared at her.

“Okay, fine. Apparently I can’t say no to your face. Let’s go,” Erica gave in. She hated how Lydia only had to give her subtle facial expressions and Erica would do anything for her. Erica hated her for it and yet she couldn’t stop. Why did she feel like she had to be at Lydia’s beck and call? It wasn’t like she wanted the girl to like her or anything. It was just… so confusing.

Either way it had Erica followed Lydia to her after school activities.

The Mathletes weren’t interesting at all. Neither was the Debate team. Erica much preferred to sit outside and write in her notebooks while she watched Allison practice, but she had to admit there was a certain side to Lydia she’d never seen before as she watched the redhead academically murder everyone around her. She dominated mathematical theories in such a way that made Erica wonder why she was still in Trig with her. Her debate skills blew Erica away. It was no wonder Lydia got her to do whatever she wanted. Her skills of persuasion were top notch. It kind of pissed Erica off as well as placed her in complete awe.

Seeing Lydia in her element brought her into a completely new light. It was like Erica was watching Lydia’s doppelganger perform these feats. Lydia was sarcastic and manipulative and self-centered, but during her clubs those traits seemed to work in her favor. 

“I’ve figured it out,” Erica said as Lydia bounded over to her once her club time was over. “Everyone is a bitch because they’re completely jealous of you.”

“Duh,” Lydia said, but she smiled afterward which implied that maybe she actually appreciated Erica’s statement.

“I mean it,” Erica said. “I’m sorry for ever thinking you were a stuck up self-centered bitch.”

“Aw, you thought that about me?” cooed Lydia, with a mock fluttering of her eyelashes.

Erica grinned and adjusted her shoulder bag as they walked toward the dormitories. “Since day one.”

Lydia was silent for a second before she suddenly said, “You really should let me do your makeup sometime. There’s a lot of hidden beauty in there and I’m dying to bring it out.”

“By covering up the real me?”

“I like to think of it as enhancing.”

“You get the night of the dance,” Erica reminded her. “And that was the deal.”

Lydia exhaled loudly. “Okay, fine.”

That night as Erica washed her face she tried to see whatever beauty Lydia said was hiding. All she saw staring back at her was droopy brown eyes with bags, a blotchy chin and hair that didn’t know how to stay brushed. 

Why would anyone think she could be beautiful?


	5. Crestwing

The day of dance lessons came a lot faster than Erica thought. One day she was happily avoiding everyone and everything with Allison in their dorm room and the next she wanted to pick a direction and just run.

The Crestwing boys didn’t arrive in school buses like a normal institution. They came in Charter buses—the kind that sported reclining chairs and televisions. Their uniforms even complimented Brookefields. Where Brookefield had red and black plaid skirts, Crestwing had blue and black plaid pants. Their blazers sported blue and black plaid seams but their tie was a solid navy blue. As Erica watched them climb out of their expensive Charter buses and proceed to shove each other around the circle drive, she grew increasingly thankful that her uniform did not require her to wear a tie.

As soon as the boys arrived, it was nearly impossible to keep the girls in check, anymore. No one paid attention in their classes to the point that the teachers didn’t bother handing out demerits or extra school chores. They gave in and actually let the students talk over filler movies. Erica didn’t complain at all. It was almost like a free day. She wondered if all the dance lesson days would be like this.

Not everyone was excited, though. Lydia’s face grew paler and paler as the day progressed, and with it, her attitude only increased. It was like the more uncomfortable she felt, the more she needed to assert her already strained personality. Erica didn’t know if she was supposed to hug her or slap her to get her out of it.

Each class was cut down to almost half its normal running time in order to shove them all into one morning. After lunch time rolled around, the girls were excused to drop their possessions off in their dorm rooms and reconvene in the gymnasium.

Erica, Allison and Lydia walked in a trio from the cafeteria to their dorm rooms, but as soon as they reached their floor, Lydia stopped.

“I have to stay behind and make sure everyone in my hall is going to the gym,” she said, almost apologetically. 

“OH, right, RA duties,” Allison said. “We’ll be out in a minute, okay?”

Erica watched Lydia for just a moment before following Allison into their room. The minute the door closed, Erica rounded on Allison and said in a low whisper. “RA duties my ass. She’s stalling.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Stop being so nice for ten seconds Allison and really think. You know Lydia.”

Erica watched the myriad of facial expressions cross Allison’s face as she came to the same realization as Erica: that Lydia really didn’t want to go through with the dance lessons after all. Allison set her back on her bed and ran a hand through her dark curls. “She has us. We can stay with her. Metaphorically hold her hand.”

“She got herself into this.”

“It’s our fault, Erica.”

“Your fault.”

“She’s trying so hard to be nice to you. Why can’t you see that?”

“Because,” Erica threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “She’s Lydia fucking Martin. Student Body President. Head of the Mathletes and Debate team. She dated douchebag of the year Jackson and probably dumped _him_. She’s a walking supermodel. Why does she have to rely on us?”

“Well,” Allison glanced at the door in case Lydia happened to be listening in, which she probably was, Erica wouldn’t doubt it. “We’re all she has right now. And even you have to admit she’s not that bad.”

Erica swallowed hard and tossed her school bag onto her bed as well. Lydia wasn’t such a bad person which was probably why she was so adamant about not helping her. Lydia deserved their friendship. She’d been nothing but nice and whatever strange grudge Erica had against her needed to stop. The problem was that Erica couldn’t stop it. Something was needling her about Lydia and she had no idea what.

When they came out of the room, Lydia was waiting at the end of the hall. She must have dropped her things off in her room already and she actually smiled when she saw the two of them coming her way. Despite the mental fatigue she must have been experiencing, she’d managed to retouch her makeup and throw her hair up in a headband. She looked regal without even trying.

“You two are the last to leave,” she said in greeting.

Erica looked behind her just to make sure. She felt a nudge in her side from Allison, probably to remind her to be nice to Lydia and she steeled herself. “Want to walk with us?”

Lydia’s mouth trembled a little bit, but she tossed her hair to the side and said, “I thought I already was.”

Some things probably wouldn’t change.

The three of them made their way across campus to the gymnasium. Erica was thankful that they both happened to know where they were going and followed dutifully. Erica didn’t have a physical education class and she wasn’t in any sports so she didn’t have to deal with the Gymnasium on a normal basis. This was her first time ever entering that part of the campus.

Despite the school’s no doubt impressive budget, they still managed to double their gym as an auditorium. One end of the gym broke open into a stage and there a few teachers sat while a few Crestwing boys set up a microphone. No doubt this was where they would play the dance music and shout out instructions. A whole new wave of nervousness hit Erica’s stomach.

The school’s staff worked to sort the students out. Erica could see Ms. Stonegate watching over the proceedings like a hawk. Even the pretty young guidance counselor, Miss Morrell, was there, making futile attempts to get the boys to line up properly. It wasn’t until Dr. Breithaupt clapped her hands loudly and barked out an order for the boys to get in line and listen to Miss Morrell’s instructions that the boys finally stood up straight. Erica had to hide a grin and a sudden growth of affection for Dr. Breithaupt.

Really, where were the chaperones for Crestwing, anyway? Surely they must have brought someone along.

All Erica could see was a sour-looking meerkat of a teacher sitting on the stage, nose so deep in a book that his glasses were sliding off his face. He sported the Crestwing colors and frowned as he read, as if he certainly wasn’t being paid enough to be there. For all the hype she’d heard about Crestwing, Erica thought the boys would be a little better behaved. Seeing the gym in chaos actually calmed her down a little.

Lydia, Allison and Erica made their way to the girl’s side of the gymnasium and took their spots against the wall. Several instructors were handing out laminated lanyards with a large number on the front to each student. They really weren’t kidding about taking Allison’s idea and running with it.

When Erica received her card, she gaped at the beautifully scripted ‘52’ on the front. “They really went all out on making these lanyards. A simple pack of notecards would have worked.”

Lydia made a grand gesture to the entire gymnasium. “Brookefield puts 110% into everything they do.”

“Obviously,” Erica grunted. “Maybe I should have expected a jewel encrusted necklace on a gold chain.”

“Can’t you be happy with anything?” Lydia complained.

Erica shrugged and didn’t even flinch when Allison gave her a pleading look. She was going to be forced to dance with a strange boy in a few minutes. She didn’t have the patience to care about being nice.

A loud rapping followed by a burst of feedback from the microphone caused a lot of people to wince. The noise managed to grab everyone’s attention, though, because the chatter quickly died down to a silence as all eyes and ears turned to the stage at the front of the gymnasium.

Miss Morrell stood on stage with a smile so fake Erica almost wondered if it were painted on. She looked around at the students and said a brisk, even faker, “Hello!”

No one responded, so Miss Morrell cleared her throat and began going over the basic rules. Erica shuffled around in her spot, completely bored. She wanted to get out of there, and, more importantly, never wanted to dance again. Miss Morrell’s words barely made an impact on her. She barely caught her mention their elaborate numbers and stepping forward to meet their dance partners. It sounded like an elaborate aerobics class to her.

Pretty soon, numbers were being called out and one by one students paired off and stood together. The entire gym was deathly quiet—as if each boy and girl were afraid to speak to each other. Erica wanted to scream at everyone in the gym. It wasn’t like they were being paired off to go mate with each other and replenish the human race. They were dancing. Why did this have to be so awkward?

Lydia was the first in their group to be paired up with a student from Crestwing. She left with a boy who looked like Lydia was his last choice. The color had drained a little from her face when she saw him and for a moment Erica though that maybe the metaphorical hand of fate had placed her with Jackson, but the moment the two students met in the center of the gym, the boy held out his arm for Lydia and she just smiled and took it and practically skipped to their spot as if suddenly this guy was the best choice for her. Erica muttered something about hypocrisy under her breath to Allison.

The second Miss Morrell called out ’52,’ Erica’s entire body froze. She just assumed she would be nonchalant about the entire situation, but now it was nearly impossible for her to move her legs. Allison gave her a little nudge to try and push things along, and the action caused a rise of panic to fill Erica’s throat. What if she had to dance with Jackson? 

“One foot in front of the other,” Allison said from beside her. “It’s okay.”

Erica’s neck muscles worked okay so she turned to face her friend who gave her a sickeningly sweet smile. The smile worked because it helped Erica take a deep breath and march deliberately toward the center of the gymnasium.

Her dance partner already stood in the center of the room waiting for her, his hands buried deep in his pockets. Erica waited until the last second to bring her head up. All she could see were the staple brown dress shoes, the ridiculous plaid pants and the navy blazer. Once she raised her head to see his face, her eyes widened.

She wasn’t really sure what she was expecting, but this guy wasn’t it. He was massive—built like a football player. He had wide shoulders but they were slumped over like he just wanted to get out of there as badly as Erica did. His dark skin clashed a little with the navy of his blazer, but it was hardly noticeable because then he smiled and suddenly Erica wasn’t afraid of her dance partner anymore.

He held out a hand for her to shake. “You don’t mind hanging out in the back of class so we can pretend this whole dance thing isn’t happening?”

Erica shook his hand and could have cried with relief. “I don’t mind at all.”

“Good.” Instead of letting go, the Crestwing student pulled Erica to the back of the gymnasium, where it seemed like the rest of the class was happening to someone else. Erica felt much better, already.

“I’m Boyd,” her dance partner said as soon as he let go of her hand.

“Erica.”

“Cool.”

The silence was uncomfortable. Whatever safe vibe Erica had gotten from Boyd seemed to have worn off. She was glad she didn’t have a stuck up dance partner, but he wasn’t particularly inviting, either.

“Is Boyd your first name?”

“Nope.”

Another round of silence followed between them and Erica figured she wouldn’t get anything more out of her mysterious partner. Miss Morrell continued to call out numbers and students slowly filled the gym with pairs. It took Erica a second to realize she had no idea who Allison’s partner was. She fought the urge to search the gym for her friend. She knew it would be nearly impossible to find her when everyone was in uniform.

When Erica’s mind was preoccupied, she discovered that time moved faster and in no time at all, the pairings were finished and the students were encouraged to spread out across the gym and to give each couple a wide berth to allow movement.

Apparently when the school said ‘dance lessons’ they really meant ‘synchronized ballroom dancing.’ Each move the students were forced to learn reminded Erica more and more of costume dramas that featured a masquerade ball. Did anyone even dance like almost a foot apart anymore?

Allison was still nowhere in sight, but Lydia could be seen easily seeing as she had planted herself and her dance partner not far away from Erica and Boyd. Lydia danced gracefully, as if she’d been taught all of these dances already. Even her dance partner had an easy time keeping up. He had a grace all his own, too. Any animosity Lydia may have had at the beginning of their meeting was completely gone, now. She laughed and twirled around, making Erica wonder if maybe she was flirting with this strange guy. A foreign feeling welled up in her gut. 

It wasn’t that Lydia wasn’t allowed to flirt. It was just so strange seeing it happen in front of her. Like maybe Erica and Allison meant nothing to her once a boy was around. It was an unknown and selfish feeling and Erica didn’t like it at all.

She tried to keep herself concentrating on the dance moves, but trying to care when she really didn’t was difficult. At first, Boyd and Erica danced in relative silence, but after Erica missed another step, Boyd finally spoke up.

“Erica,” he said. His deep voice startled Erica into stopping her miscalculated movements for a second.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, thinking he was going to mock her dancing. “I’ve never synchronized anything like this before. I prefer freestyle. Or standing still.”

“You’re distracted,” he said, “You keep looking over there whenever you get the chance.” He nodded with his head in Lydia’s general direction. “Someone important?”

Erica felt her face grow hot and it startled her. Why was she even embarrassed? “It’s nothing. Just watching that couple. They’re really good.”

Boyd’s gaze turned immediately to Lydia and her dance partner and Erica found it a little amusing that he knew exactly which couple she was talking about. “Yeah,” he agreed. “They are.”

“Almost makes you wonder if they were meant to dance together,” Erica said without realizing it. What was her mouth doing?

“Maybe,” Boyd shrugged. “It’s not any of my business.”

“Not a man of many words, are you?”

Boyd shrugged.

“Can you tell me who that guy is, though?” Erica asked, suddenly, finding inspiration. “I’m just curious.”

“Will you learn the dance so Mr. Harris won’t come over here and bite our heads off?”

“Mr. Harris?”

Boyd pointed to the meerkat teacher with the glasses. He’d been uprooted from his chair on the stage and was now acting like he had to coach students at gunpoint. He loped around and currently shouted orders at a poor couple who were having a worse time than Boyd and Erica.

“Yeah, yeah okay,” Erica said quickly. She took Boyd’s hand and counted off the steps and they began the slow process of trying to muddle their way through ballroom dancing.

“His name is Danny,” said Boyd. He placed a strong hand on Erica’s waist to guide her in the proper direction after she’d turned the wrong way. 

“So that’s not Jackson, then,” Erica wondered out loud.

Boyd grunted in response. “He’s Jackson’s best friend.”

Well that explained why Lydia was initially upset about being paired up with him, but it didn’t explain all the flirting. She found herself staring again because Boyd had to clear his throat to snap her back to the present. “I wouldn’t try to go for him if I were you,” he said.

“I wasn’t going to,” Erica said through gritted teeth. “But out of curiosity, why do you care? You think I’m out of his league or something?”

Boyd smiled a little bit and Erica wondered if he was laughing inwardly. It was so rare for Erica to be this forward with a complete stranger, but Boyd had a relaxing effect on her. “Let’s just say you’re not his type.”

“Oh,” Erica’s eyes widened in sudden clarity. 

It was Boyd’s turn to panic as he brought the two of them to a halt and leaned in close. “Don’t make a scene about it, please?”

Boyd looked so concerned for Danny that it gave Erica the strangest urge to hug him. She never hugged anyone. Hugging was so far off her physical comfort scale that it surprised her, but Erica got nothing but genuinely good vibes from this guy, even if he didn’t talk much. She couldn’t help but like him.

“Relax,” she cooed. “It’s cool. I’m just glad Lydia’s okay, then.”

“You know Lydia?” Boyd asked, relief flooding his face. “No offense, but you don’t take me as the kind of person Lydia would hang around.” Of course Boyd knew Lydia. Everyone knew Lydia.

“Well, we’re not exactly friends…” Erica admitted. Boyd didn’t say anything, so Erica assumed she was supposed to continue. “And she’s a bit of a narcissistic bitch but I think it’s a front, you know? She looks so vulnerable sometimes even when she acts tough. I don’t think anyone else can see it but me. So, you know, I was worried. A little.”

“A little?”

“A little,” Erica confirmed, even though Boyd’s voice was laced with sarcasm. “She’s been going through a lot.”

“Yeah,” Boyd said, his voice trailing off. His eyes focused on Lydia and Danny for a moment before he shook his head and looked down at Erica. “You want to get out of here?” he asked.

Erica blinked a few times to get her bearings. “What, like leave the gym?”

“Yeah. There’s so much going on, they probably won’t even notice.”

Erica took a chance to look around the room for the chaperones. Miss Morrell continued to call out instructions over the microphone as soft music filled the gymnasium. Both the staff for Brookefield and Crestwing wove in and out of the dancing couples, helping them either dance properly or pulling them apart.

Boyd didn’t even hesitate. If anyone had a now-or-never approach to escaping dance lessons, it was him. He took a hold of Erica’s hand and tugged her toward the exit doors.

Once outside, the music and scuffling of feet stopped immediately and was replaced with a soft breeze and the distant call of southbound geese. Erica took a deep breath of fresh air and leaned against the brick building behind her.

“I hadn’t realized how stuffy it was in there,” Erica said, taking in long, slow breaths.

Boyd leaned against the wall beside her and stuffed his hands back into his pockets. The way he dug around in them, Erica almost thought he was going to pull out a packet of cigarettes. The thought seemed to come from nowhere and Erica found herself thinking about all the ways she could turn down a cigarette. As rebellious and relaxing as the world seemed to think cigarettes were, Erica was having a wonderfully seizure-free month and she wanted to keep it that way.

When Boyd pulled out a packet, Erica steeled herself to reject him until she saw what it was.

“Gum?” he offered.

Erica breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, please.”

She took a piece and together they stood against the brick wall of the school with the muffled ballroom waltz playing behind them. Of all the people she could have been stuck with, Erica lucked out with getting someone who wanted to be there as much as she did. It was probably her luckiest catch since coming to Brookefield.

“So,” Erica started. She’d come a long way from the shy, withdrawn epileptic girl and she still had a ways to go, but she could get to where she wanted to be a little faster by making another friend. “How do you know Lydia?”

“I used to be friends with Jackson and Danny. We play on our school’s lacrosse team.”

“Used to?”

Boyd shrugged. “We drifted.”

Erica scrunched up her nose. “Who plays lacrosse anyway? I would have thought you played football.”

“Football works better with the bigger public schools,” Boyd said matter-of-factly. It was a sound enough argument for Erica.

She fell quiet for a moment, wondering if it was okay for her to pry further. Allison didn’t know anything about Lydia prior to when she first met her and Erica didn’t know any of the other girls as much to inquire. Boyd was the perfect candidate to give a little bit of background information on her Junior Student Body President.

“Whatever happened between her and Jackson, anyway?”

Boyd shook his head a little, like he didn’t know how to respond. “They broke up.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“She never told you? I thought girls always talked about that stuff.”

Erica clenched her jaw again without thinking about it. “The only thing Lydia tells me is how nice I would look with makeup.”

Boyd burst out laughing and it took Erica by surprise. She hadn’t thought her comment was particularly amusing and she gave him a harsh look for his outburst. 

When he calmed down enough, he explained. “Lydia never says anything nice about another girl, ever, let alone _that_. I went into town a few times with Danny, Jackson and Lydia and every single time she’d have something awful to say about every girl she saw. One of the reasons we drifted, actually.”

“Sounds like her. So, what, they broke up because of that?”

“Sort of?” Boyd squinted his eyes toward the sky a little, like maybe it held all the right words for him. “Jackson had wandering eyes. All I know is suddenly Jackson’s in the locker room bragging about dumping her. You probably shouldn’t be hearing this from me. If you really want to know, just ask Lydia.”

“I can’t,” said Erica.

Boyd didn’t even ask why not. He just looked at her.

Erica sighed. “She has a lot on her plate with this dance, and her President duties and the Mathletes and Debate and classes. She doesn’t need me prying into her social life.”

“That’s a lot of interest for someone who isn’t even your friend.”

A flush crept over Erica’s face and she wished she could just bat it away. She had no idea how to reply to that. Could Lydia be classified as a frenemy? Better yet, why was she pouring out her soul to some guy she’d literally just met? For all she knew, he could spread rumors about her or worse.

After all, he was basically gossiping. What guy gossiped behind a school building while skipping dance lessons? It was all really, really weird.

When she looked over at Boyd again, he was staring at her. His big brown eyes seemed to look right through her. Erica wanted to hug her arms to herself to offer her soul some shielding because the strong gaze of Boyd overpowered her.

“You like her,” he said.

Erica didn’t say anything, but her heart rate spiked and she wanted so badly to protest. 

“It wasn’t Danny you were staring at. It was Lydia.”

Erica could feel her heart beating in her throat and she swore if she opened her mouth, it would hurl itself to the ground. She swallowed hard just to keep it down. Why were Boyd’s words having such an impact on her?

“It’s okay, it doesn’t bother me, none,” Boyd shrugged. He was still staring at her, though. Unsure. Disappointed? Erica didn’t know where to begin.

“Stop,” she croaked out, when her voice finally found a way around her beating heart. “It’s not like that.”

“Okay,” Boyd said, his hands in the air defensively.

“You’re accusing me of something that isn’t true!” Erica’s voice rose slowly.

Boyd’s hand wiggled in the air to reiterate his defensive position.

“We’re friends. And… and I’m not even sure if we’re that, okay?”

Boyd nodded. 

“Good, okay,” Erica nodded quickly and leaned her head back against the brick wall. The world was shaking a little bit and she was worried that if she got any more worked up, she’d work herself into an episode. She concentrated on the gum in her mouth and closed her eyes slowly.

When she opened them again, Boyd was peeking through the doorway to the gym. He pulled his head back and nodded toward the interior. “We’d better head back inside before they notice.”

The trek back inside took more patience. Boyd had to wait until there was a loud point in the music and no chaperones were watching. For the music to have soft, melodious instruments playing, the crescendo spike took some time. Erica debated just walking in when Boyd suddenly took hold of her arm and tugged her inside.

It was nearing the end of the session and Miss Morrell instructed the students to dance a recap of each dance they had learned. Boyd and Erica missed the last two dances during their impromptu field trip, but they could muddle through the others just as convincingly.

Instinctively, they made their way back to their initial spot where Erica noticed a bit too late that Lydia danced not too far away. Her stomach turned around in her gut with such force that the room spun a little bit. She grabbed onto Boyd’s arm for support.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Erica breathed. “Just getting my bearings.”

She didn’t like Lydia like that. She didn’t even like Lydia as a friend. The only reason she was freaking out was because Boyd had planted the seed in her mind. Lydia was just this annoying popular girl that had fallen from grace and just so happened to fall in the general direction of Erica and Allison. No big deal.

In fact, she could test the theory on Allison, anyway. If she were going to have a crush on anyone in this school, it would be her best friend and roommate, wouldn’t it? Allison had been there for her since day one. Surely once Erica saw her dancing with some guy, it would makes her jealousy hackles raise, right?

Except, where was Allison?

Erica stopped dancing to actively look around the room for her best friend. She hadn’t seen her since before the sorting. Maybe she got sick and had to go to the infirmary?

Before Erica could even get a good look, a loud shriek interrupted the dance music and several couples stopped dancing immediately to turn toward the direction of the sound.

“Don’t you ever say that about my friends!”

The shout sounded familiar enough for Erica to push her way through the gathering couples to see Allison, red faced and seething, standing over a Crestwing boy. He had a hand to his face as if he’d been slapped. Erica didn’t care who he was. She hoped it hurt.

“And don’t you ever touch me like that, again!” Allison continued to shout, her eyes glazed with tears that threatened to fall. Erica wanted to burst through the crowd and rush to Allison’s side.

“Dude,” said a strong voice behind her. Erica didn’t have to turn around to know it was Boyd. “Jackson got served.”

Erica did a double take and turned her head to look back at Boyd for confirmation. “ _That_ is Jackson?”

Boyd nodded and tilted his head to the proceedings just in time for Allison to finish letting herself get a few calming breaths. Jackson still hadn’t said anything.

“I thought maybe I could see some good in you for Lydia’s sake, but you’re actually just a jerk,” she spat.

“Overreact much? Bitch,” Jackson said at length.

Erica resisted the urge to tell Allison to punch him because at that moment, Mr. Harris and Dr. Breithaupt marched through the throng of students and stood by their respective students.

“All right, all right, you two. Calm down,” Dr. Breithaupt said with a bored tone. “What’s the problem?

Jackson spoke up first, his eyes wild. “This girl is a psycho!”

Allison reacted instantly by launching herself at Jackson probably further proving his point, but Dr. Breithaupt held her back effectively. Mr. Harris tugged Jackson away with little more than a disapproving pat on his shoulder. Erica wondered if Mr. Harris thought Jackson was the victim after all of this. The thought caused an anger so deep to rise up in her stomach that she wanted to throw up.

Instead, she rushed forward to Allison’s side. “What’d he say?” she asked.

Dr. Breithaupt shielded Allison a little with her body and shook her head. “Get back to your place, Miss Reyes. This is a private matter for Miss Argent.”

“Private my ass,” Erica muttered. She could feel a strong hand on her shoulder and knew it was Boyd. At least he was still on her side.

Dr. Breithaupt gasped, “Erica! We do not use such language!”

Another voice shoved its way to the surface. “What did he say to you?”

Lydia stood before them, her hair a mess and her skin flushed from dancing. She was breathing hard and her eyes darted from Allison to Erica and to Boyd.

Allison swallowed hard and looked around her as if she’d just now noticed she was surrounded. “It’s nothing I want to repeat.”

“You will totally repeat it all word for word, later,” Lydia demanded.

Dr. Breithaupt, with the help of Miss Morrell and Ms Stonegate, managed to break up the crowd and the first dance lessons between Brookefield and Crestwing were brought to an abrupt halt.

Allison received a detention slip and took it gracefully. Erica saw it coming and thought that things could have been worse until Ms Stonegate pointed a bony finger at her and shouted, “Gum chewing? In _my_ gymnasium?”

Erica shut her mouth quickly. How had she known?

No sooner had Erica been handed her detention slip, Lydia piped up with an argument stating that it was unjust to hand out detentions as the teacher’s pleased and Ms Stonegate responded by handing her an identical slip.

Lydia stared at the offending piece of paper in shock, “But I’m President!”

“Presidents also get detention. Right now. All three of you.” Ms Stonegate barked. She motioned for the three of them to march single file out of the gymnasium. Erica could feel everyone’s eyes on the back of her head as she made her way through the crowd.

Before leaving the gym, she turned and caught Boyd’s gaze. He gave her a sheepish look and she just shrugged. At least they’d gotten out of dancing for the rest of the evening.


	6. Detention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It turns out this story generated a better response than I'd thought! I have been thinking about this fic a lot and it bother me that I haven't finished it. With the happenings of season 3A, my Boyd and Erica feels have been at an all time high--so all I want to do is write their characters, again.
> 
> This is a (REALLY) short chapter that answers a lot of questions people had. This is not the end, but rather the beginning to Erica's real coming-of-age/transformation story. I wanted to put it online as a reminder to everyone that I'm finally able to start working on this fic, once more!

Erica assumed detention would be the worst thing to ever happen to her, but detention at Brookefield meant absolutely nothing. It was assumed by most parents that their children would be on their best behavior and Brookefield knew this—that was why the real punishment was a letter of notification sent home to the parents informing them of their child’s indiscretion. Whatever punishment the parents came up with was usually worse than anything the school could do.

Erica didn’t even care. She’d gotten detentions before. Her parents might not even bat an eye—especially once they saw that her detention was for something as trivial as chewing gum. 

Getting detention with Allison and Lydia actually meant the world to Erica. All the three of them had to do was sit in a room together and quietly work on homework or read. That was it. Erica actually preferred detention to actual class, mostly because she didn’t live in fear of having the teacher call on her for an answer.

They weren’t allowed to speak to each other and that was a bit of a problem, especially when Erica was dying to get information out of Allison. There was only so much lip-reading and eyebrow talking could do for them. Eventually, Lydia pulled out a piece of paper from her notebook, scribbled something on to it, and passed it to Allison.

Erica tapped her foot impatiently. She’d probably kick Lydia’s desk from behind if she didn’t get a chance to see what Allison wrote back. As it turned out, though, they sat in a triangle formation with Lydia in front of Erica and Allison sitting to their left. When Allison finished reading the note, she wrote something and didn’t actually hand it back to Lydia—but to Erica.

_What did he say to you? –L_

_Just some rude things about you. That’s all. –A_

Erica stared down at the paper. Should she just hand it back to Lydia? To Allison? She’d never been in a three-way note before. Was there etiquette? Did any of it even fucking matter? Instead of putting too much thought into it, she jumbled something down and passed it forward to Lydia.

_Yes but WHAT –E_

_Inquiring minds want to know –L_

Erica watched Lydia write over her shoulder. The smell of Lydia’s shampoo and a trace amount of body spray flooded her senses to the point that when Allison finally took the note from Lydia, Erica distracted herself by taking an interest in watching Allison compose her answer. Downtime with Lydia wasn’t something she wanted to focus on. She just wanted to scribble down her own response.

_At first he was putting on the heavy flirting and when I told him I wasn’t interested he seemed personally offended – A_

_Welcome to narciss…isisism. Whatever. What’d he say about Lydia? –E_

When Lydia took the note from Erica, she made a little noise that sounded like laughter, but she wouldn’t let Erica see what she wrote until she passed the note back to Allison. As Allison wrote, Lydia gave Erica a tiny smirk and that horrible feeling in Erica’s stomach resurfaced. When Allison passed her the note again, Erica tore it open with gusto.

_Narcissism, brown eyes. (cough it up, Allison) –L_

Erica could hear Lydia’s voice saying that nickname and her face grew hot. Boyd was such a jerk for making up that lie about her.

_When I told him I was your friend and I don’t date my friend’s trash, he told me that he dumped you. You were the trash and it wasn’t like it mattered anyway because you were probably a dyke. – A_

Allison’s note didn’t make Erica feel any better. Maybe that was why Boyd said something? Maybe Boyd suspected it, too? No. NO. Everyone was just against Lydia because she was so beautiful and she went to an all-girls school. That was it. No contest. Erica nearly broke her mechanical pencil as she wrote her reply.

_JERK!!!!!!! You should have punched him, not slapped him. – E_

Lydia kept the note for a long time afterward. Erica wished she could see the look on her face, but it was impossible from behind. Lydia had perfected the art of using her strawberry blonde locks to her advantage. Erica exchanged a look with Allison who only shrugged. Eventually, when Lydia finally handed the note back to Allison, she hadn’t added a thing.

Erica watched Lydia for a long time as she absentmindedly picked at a hangnail, lost in her thoughts. Allison didn’t write anything else, either. Was the conversation over? What could they say anyway, except to agree that Jackson was out of line? Erica didn’t want the conversation to end like that, though. She found she wanted to keep talking—at least to Lydia, and even then, she had no idea what to say to her other than she was sorry Allison got caught up in all of this.

Erica took a deep breath and ripped out a page of her notebook and scribbled a note down. She read it a few times over before she finally leaned forward and tapped Lydia on the shoulder.

When Lydia took the note, her fingers accidentally brushed Erica’s in such a way that it sent electric shivers all the way down to Erica’s legs. She held perfectly still, wondering if maybe things weren’t psychosomatic after all.

_You’re right. He didn’t deserve you. -E_

Instead of writing back, Lydia turned around and smiled. Erica’s stomach flipped again only this time it really wasn’t that unpleasant. She could see in that moment that yeah, they really were friends. And yeah, maybe she wanted to be a little bit more. Maybe. 

-0-0-0-

It was late afternoon by the time the three of them were released from detention. Both Allison and Lydia missed their electives but neither of them seemed to mind, much. In fact, the experience seemed to bring the three girls together more than ever before. Erica didn’t mind walking the campus with just Allison, but somehow having Lydia with them made her feel more complete.

Lydia strode in between Allison and Erica, but mostly because they were still trying to comfort her from Jackson’s lack of tact.

“It’s okay,” Lydia said after the fourth time Allison mentioned Jackson’s jerkiness. “I’ve dealt with guys like him before. He couldn’t handle a little blow to the ego, that’s all. Besides, isn’t calling someone gay a bit of a useless insult? I would have gone with overachieving selfish bitch, but if that’s how he wants to play the game…”

Lydia continued to brush off any and all of both Erica and Allison’s comments, but Erica could tell, just by the way Lydia’s shoulders slumped that Jackson’s words and actions still bothered her. It was impossible to know why without asking her directly.

The lack of knowledge ate at Erica for so long she finally had to ask. “Lydia,” she said softly. “Why did you and Jackson really break up?”

Lydia gave a slight shrug of her right shoulder and said with such an aloof tone that Erica was certain she wasn’t getting the full story, “It was a mutual decision. It was nearly impossible to maintain a long-distance relationship through two different boarding schools so we called it off.”

“He sounds a little too butt-hurt for it to have been that easy,” Erica muttered.

“How am I supposed to know how a guy’s mind works?” Lydia snapped, “For all I know, he felt the need to prove his manliness among those primates over there at Crestwing and I was an easy stepping stool for him.”

Lydia’s tone of voice had a neutralizing effect on Erica and she backed down a little. She knew the more she pried, the angrier Lydia would become. Rather than push forward like she wanted, Erica held back and even stole a glance at Allison, as if maybe she would have a better idea for how to fix things.

Allison only offered a change in subject, which Lydia seemed to take to immediately. “The bottom line is that you have us, now. Right Erica?”

Lydia turned to face Allison as she spoke, but when Allison said Erica’s name, Lydia whipped her head around and Erica could see that she wasn’t as mad as Erica originally thought. If anything, Erica could swear she saw a bit of hope etched across her features.

“Right.” Erica nodded, pressing her shoulder up against Lydia’s in what she hoped would be a reassuring gesture. “You’re stuck with us.”

Lydia actually smiled, and Erica didn’t miss that it looked a bit crooked, like she couldn’t quite pull the corners of her mouth up all the way. A second later, Erica felt Lydia’s arm snake around her waist as she pulled her close.

“Stop being so selfless, both of you,” Lydia said at length. It was then that Erica noticed she’d pulled Allison to her side as well.

Together, the three of them made their way back to the dorms stuck at the hip, black and red skirts crashing together seamlessly.

That was the first time Erica truly realized she had friends.


End file.
